Page 138 of Heirs of the Cursed

Leonel knew that insisting was pointless. Naithea would never leave without knowing her sisters were safe. Only then would she run away, and he wanted to make sure his friend disappeared before someone found her.

The loud clacking of shoes pushed Leonel back to his hiding place, bringing one of his fingers to his lips to signal the hetairas to remain silent. His arm flew across Naithea’s stomach until he pinned her against the sidewall of a store, and her eyes widened in surprise at the coarse voices that followed.

“Bloody whores,” one of the Fiend’s dogs snarled.

“They couldn’t have gone far. They are eleven worthless women!”

“We must find them before the soldiers do. It’s important that it’s our master who brings her before the king.”

“Let’s split up,” a third man ordered, too close. “You, go into the forest. Zadimus, scour the marketplace. I don’t care if we have to burn down the whole damned city. Find her!”

When the echo of their boots was lost among the streets of Bellmare, they all breathed again.

“That was damn close,” Faithe whimpered.

“We don’t have much time,” Leonel informed them. “The Fiend’s dogs are known for their tracking skills.”

Naithea inhaled sharply. “I can distract them.”

“What?” Kaenna and Anera asked at the same time.

“Thea, don’t,” Regnera immediately refused.

Leonel stared at her with determination. “That’s not an option.”

“What other choice do we have?” Naithea asked. “If what you say is true, those monsters have been trained to memorize my scent. I’ve been with them for the past seven days. That they haven’t found us yet is nothing but dumb luck. I have to do this.”

“Naithea . . .”

“I’ll divert the trail and meet you at the harbor,” she assured them and then focused her gaze on Leonel. “You get that ship.”

“I will.”

Naithea unsheathed her sword before separating from the wall.

“See you on the other side.”

As Naithea took a different path to the harbor, she rubbed her garments against various structures in the city so that her scent would permeate in them and confuse the Fiend’s dogs.

The sound of voices, distant laughter and heavy steps made her heartbeat echo in her ears. But Naithea didn’t let that stop her; instead, she fed on her fear to move forward, to keep fighting for her own survival.

Hidden behind a wall, she stretched her head ahead to scan the harbor. The ocean roared loudly and dark waves crashed against the wall until salt water splashed against the stone path. Naithea returned to her hiding place as she noticed the shadow of a male figure monitoring the harbor.

One of the Fiend’s dogs.

Killian’s lessons rushed through her mind, trying to come up with a plan that would guarantee her safe escape. She could dodge them, keep misleading them until they grew tired and shehad an opportunity to flee the city. But those men wouldn’t rest until they found her. The sword in her hand shone under the oil lamps, the only option she had. She could secure the path to the ship from which an oil lamp secretly signaled to her that that would be where her sisters would embark.

Her surroundings fell into an eerie silence. A strong, heavy hand rested on her shoulder, pulling her down. Naithea growled and closed her slender fingers tighter around the hilt of her sword.

“There you are, little cockroach,” the man laughed. “You like to cause trouble, don’t you?”

Naithea slipped out of his grip with a nimble twist and raised her sword, the edge of the blade cutting into the skin of her fingers until she saw blood spurting out.

“Yes, I do.”

She attacked quickly. She raised the sword high in the air, at face level, and swung it gracefully; the benefits of training with a lethal warrior. Naithea focused on her target and her surroundings, as Leonel’s words echoed in her mind.

Bend your knees, keeping your body upright and the sword between you and your opponent, he had told her during their first lesson.

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